


Wisdom and Stubbornness

by LadyBookwormWithTeeth



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bondage, F/M, Oral Sex, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 21:01:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5470664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBookwormWithTeeth/pseuds/LadyBookwormWithTeeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a silly fight ends in an awkward request.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wisdom and Stubbornness

**Author's Note:**

> **Timeline** : set in the Enchanted Forest, before the first Curse. In this AU, Rumpelstiltskin asked for a wife, rather than a maid, and, instead of sending her away, they fell in love.  
>  **Prompt** : rough, love, dark one Rumple  
>  **RSS** : this is a gift for rumplstiltskn. I hope this is to your liking and that it was worth the wait. If there is anything you dislike about it, let me know. Maybe I can make some changes.  
>  **Beta** : Maddie, as always, did the wonderful job of making my crazy writing readable. She also provided SERIOUS moral support and listened to me whining for WEEKS. I don't give her enough credit.

Very slowly, Rumpelstiltskin's eyes doubled in size as they took in his little wife, her words finally sinking in. Belle stood in front of him, her expression as neutral as she could keep it, but there was nothing she could do for the beating of her heart or the blushing on her cheeks as she waited to see if he'd take her up on her offer.

After what felt like an eternity, he answered, “You don't mean that.”

“And why not?” she challenged back.

Rumpelstiltskin didn't bother arguing. “I will spare his life, if that is what you want,” he said. “It goes against my better judgment, but, as you pointed out, he's offended you, not me.”

“Thank you,” Belle said, with a slight bow of the head. Without warning, she added, “And I meant it.”

He didn't react to that, so Belle repeated her words for good measure, “Instead of squeezing Gaston's throat for being a sore loser, you should squeeze mine. I shall find it much more enjoyable than he-”

“I have already agreed to spare him,” he cut in, firmly. “I don't require anyone to take his place. Least of all, you.”

Belle shrugged, as if the conversation was easy. But it wasn't. Far from it.

“Won't you do it for my pleasure?” she rasped, feet firmly planted on the floor, yards away from her husband, expecting him to make the first move.

Rumpelstiltskin didn't. He just stared at her, his expression guarded, but not disgusted, which was a relief. Of the many ways that scenario had played in her head, the best case always ended with the both of them tangled in bed, his accepting arms holding her tight. But the worst case varied in a myriad of ways. He might be angry enough to kick her out of his castle – _their_ castle. He might awkwardly retire to his tower and never mention this incident again. He might return her to Sir Maurice, explaining to her father _in excruciating detail_ why he wouldn't have a slut for a wife.

Of course, he would never do that. Belle knew her husband well enough by now. But her imagination had always been vivid and, sometimes, it was brutal. It had held her back for as long as it could until, finally, her wish just burst out of her lips at the most inconvenient of times.

Well, at least it was out in the open now, for him to take or refute.

“If you feel,” he said, cautious, “that you owe me anything-”

“I don't.”

“Or that your fiance's life-”

“ _Former_ fiance,” she corrected.

Rumpelstiltskin didn't seem to care for the nuance, even though they had been married for a year and Gaston had only been mentioned a couple of times. “That _his_ life is worth your pain-”

“I don't care for Gaston's life,” she said, and although it might be cold on her part, she meant it. It was difficult to care for a man who was slandering her name in every court he invited himself into. The Dark One's Whore was the fondest name he had for her nowadays. “I oppose to murder being your solution to most problems, as you well know.”

“Yes,” he replied, displeased. It wasn't the first time they had had _that_ fight.

Belle didn't drop the subject, though. “I don't like what it does to you, and I don't like what it does to your reputation. And I don't think you fully understand the long-term consequences-”

“Do you find me so beastly,” he interrupted, “as to think I might enjoy hurting you?”

Belle went quiet. Nothing like bringing up old arguments to make him dive into new ones.

“No. I'm saying that... _I_... might enjoy it,” she answered, pausedly and looking into his eyes, so that he knew she was being sincere. “Not _pain_. I don't think so. But... something.”

His eyes didn't move from hers. His expression didn't change.

Gradually, as the seconds ticked by with her husband silently staring at her, Belle's confidence turned into shame and the flirt in her eyes died.

“If you'd be willing, that is,” she added, offering him a way out of the conversation. “It might not be the proper time for... You spared his life, that is good enough for-”

Her husband reacted so fast that Belle almost took a step back, which would have been a disaster. But she managed to stay in place as Rumpelstiltskin advanced towards her in two long strides. His right hand raised half-way up, but dropped before he had the courage to actually go for her neck.

He was standing next to her now, looking down into her eyes as he rubbed his thumb and index finger together, fidgeting, waiting for some sort of sign that it was alright to go on. Belle couldn't think of a word to say, not even “yes”. He was so close, staring at her with such intent. And there was a delicious threat between the two of them, of all the things he might do to her if only she managed to say something, and he managed to overcome his own fear. So she twitched the corners of her mouth into a smile, and hoped that would be enough.

Rumpelstiltskin raised his right hand, then dropped it again. Maybe to make things easier, he started with something familiar – his left hand on the back of her neck. The tip of his fingers buried themselves into her hair, his palm pressed gently against her nape, the way he did after sex, easing her to sleep. Belle leaned into the touch, threw her head back just enough to offer him her throat.

Before he could hesitate, Rumpelstiltskin moved to place his right hand there, covering as much of her skin as he could. Her neck was so lean and delicate that it wasn't so difficult.

Belle took in a deep breath, feeling herself expanding against his hand, his touch limiting her, but not pressing.

“Was this what you wanted?” he rasped, more concerned than teasing. “I mean, when you offered me your hand?”

Words still failed her, so Belle hummed a questioning sound, sending the vibration against his palm.

He explained, “Did you hope that the Monster would be-”

“I hoped for no Monster,” she interrupted. “I hoped for a man who would save my people. And then I hoped that that man would fall for me, as I was falling for him.”

He watched her with intense curiosity. Her love puzzled him. Belle thought that **,** after sharing his bed for a few months, that would no longer be the case, but she had been wrong. He still regarded her with utter confusion whenever she professed her love, as if that made no sense to him. If she still feared him, or even if she confessed to him now that all she ever wanted was a violent lover to satisfy her appetite, he'd probably have found that easier to accept.

“You don't believe me,” she mourned.

“I...” he started. Then, he went quiet, wanting to protect her from the heartbreak. His thumb stroked her chin as he thought. That simple touch alone was so full of affection that Belle would never dare question his feelings for her. They were evident in every one of his gestures. Even gathering the bravery to hold her by the neck was an act of love. “Most women,” he explained, “would never have the Dark One for a husband.”

“Most men,” she replied, much in the same tone, “wouldn't accept a depraved wife.”

His mouth quirked into a smile and Belle felt her heart flutter.

“You are not _depraved_ ,” he said.

She couldn't help but laugh. “I am a little, it seems.”

He licked his lips to keep himself from laughing as well, but dared to pull her closer. Belle stood on the tip of her slippers, the pressure on her throat stronger now, but still too gentle to keep her from breathing.

He asked, “Aren't you afraid I might break you?”

Belle tried to shake her head, but barely manage a nod.

“You speak as if I were made out of glass,” she said.

“You're made of stronger stuff,” he granted.

“Such as?”

His nose tickled her cheek, making her smile. “Such as wisdom, and stubbornness.”

“Then you couldn't hurt me if you tried.”

He bit his lips. Asked, “And do you want me to try?”

She batted her eyes at him, considering. “I want you to love me as if I were wise and stubborn.”

 

*

 

 

From the first moment Rumpelstiltskin tasted power, he knew he would never be able to let go of it. As a man who had lived his life under the thumb of others, to have such control over his own fate made him feel protected like never before. For as long as he had power, there was nothing to fear. He could face _anything_.

But right now, lying by his naked wife's side in bed, her delicate wrists secured by rope to the bedposts, he couldn't think of anything more terrifying than the complete control he had over her right now. It was well known that Rumpelstiltskin shouldn't be trusted with beautiful things. He either collected them with avarice, or he twisted them into something ugly so that they could be better used. Why should Belle be any different?

But it had been a year since she had agreed to become his wife – and six months since she had convinced him to share his bed. So far, she was still beautiful, and as good as the day they met. Sometimes, he wondered just how long that would last. Some day, she might grow tired of him and ask to be released from their contract. That is, if her heart was not lost to darkness first.

Sometimes, he wondered if the right thing to do wouldn't be to let her go.

But right now, she was looking at him underneath long eyelashes, trustful and unafraid, and the thought of losing her was more terrifying than the thought of breaking her heart. He wanted her, and he would do his best to keep her safe, as long as he could keep her in his arms.

“How did you get so skilled at this?” she asked, looking beyond him at the complicated knot he had tied.

Rumpelstiltskin shrugged because telling her about his part life as a weaver and a spinner was too overwhelming at the moment. He knew rope, an ability he never thought would be useful in the bedroom, but that he was almost thankful for at the moment. Even though it took him several words of reassurance before he complied to tying her to the bed, he had put some effort into it, working the rope into a bracelet that hugged her wrist firmly, but with no pain. He had done it to give her more time, in case she wanted to change her mind, but he'd be lying if he didn't say the final result pleased his eyes. Besides, Belle seemed so impressed with it that it filled him with pride.

“I read somewhere that there are many ways one could tie a lover,” she mused, and he knew her well enough to recognize the ranting as a sign that she was nervous.

“Is this what you'd like me to do?” he asked, still cautious, ready to pull back at any moment. He didn't even dare to move his hand from her stomach since they had lied down, no matter how inviting her breasts looked.

Her leg rubbed against his, an absent-minded movement that was enough to make something inside of him stir. He could feel her nudity through the fabric of his pants.

“I think I'd like to try that someday,” she admitted. “But not tonight.”

“And what is it that you had in mind for tonight?”

Belle smiled apologetically. “I'm not sure.”

If he wasn't so on edge, Rumpelstiltskin would have laughed. As a rule, Belle liked to plan things in advance, but sometimes she caught herself unaware with an impulsive choice such as this one.

“You are good at making things up as you go,” he granted. “But I'm sure you had _something_ on your mind.”

She bit her lip and asked, “Can you hold my neck again?”

He brought his hand up her body to comply.

Belle closed her eyes and sighed.

Rumpelstiltskin leaned closer to her ear. “Is this good?”

“Just a little stronger.”

Minding the pressure, he squeezed lightly until he could feel her heartbeat against his thumb.

“Just like this,” she purred.

“What is it that pleases you so much about it?”

Belle hummed as she thought about it. “It makes me feel yours. You could have me in any way that pleases you, and that, in turn, pleases me.”

He kissed a sweet spot between her jar and her earlobe, making her shiver.

“That is all I truly want,” he said. “To please you.”

“And you can do it in any way you want,” she said. “I am, after all, in no condition to stop you.”

He grinned against her skin. “That is rather tempting.”

Rumpelstiltskin hooked one leg to hers and pulled it apart. Belle took in a deep breath, her chest expending slowly.

“Maybe you have a few ideas of your own,” she murmured.

He rubbed his thumb on her throat, thinking. He _did_ have ideas, and they were more than a few. He spent what he deemed an unhealthy amount of his time thinking about Belle, but he couldn't help it. No deal or scheme or ways to irritate Regina were nearly as fun in a sleepless night than coming up with new ways to pleasure his wife.

She made a complaining noise when he let go of her neck to tease her nipple with his fingertips. His touch was so light that she arched her back, pushing her breasts up to meet his hand, but he pulled away.

“You're too impatient, my dear,” he said, when she whined in protest.

“Is it wrong to long for my husband?”

“Well, it does make me question your taste,” he teased.

Belle shook her head, very serious. “Don't. My husband is perfect for me.”

Rumpelstiltskin was glad she couldn't see his face, because he was sure to be blushing. Belle could do that so easily nowadays.

“Perfect,” she repeated, feeling his fingers slide down her stomach. “He knows just what I like. And he always does everything he can to make me happy.”

“If you're still able to speak so eloquently,” he said, “maybe he should make more of an effort.”

Belle laughed as he cupped her sex. “I do wonder why he's taking his time.”

“Because, and I believe I've said this before, you should learn to _wait._ ”

His fingers brushed over her. He kept her legs spread, but there was no need. Belle didn't want to fight his touch. Quite the opposite. She'd do anything to turn the teasing into something more.

He moved closer, his buttons and laces rubbing against her bare skin.

“You are too dressed,” she whispered, squirming closer to him as best she could.

“I'm in no hurry.”

“For my pleasure, then.”

He nibbled at her neck. “Didn't you say you were here for _my_ pleasure, my dear?”

Under his touch, he could feel her shudder.

“Then I think I will keep my clothes on for as long as I'd like. But don't worry, I'm sure you'll still enjoy what I have in mind for you.”

His fingers parted her sex, but still refused to do more than just tease her sensitive skin, as his mouth captured a nipple. He could hear her gasp and moan something incoherent, and Rumpelstiltskin was sure he would never hear a more beautiful sound than this. She was wet already, he could feel it, and though he'd love nothing more than lapping at her sex, he took his time to bite her breasts and kiss her stomach thoroughly, working his way down her body.

When his mouth finally connected with her core, she bucked her hips to meet him, but was only rewarded with a kiss.

“Don't be greedy, my dear,” he said.

Belle whimpered, but stilled her hips and waited for him to come to her after tracing a long line of kisses up her thighs. Underneath his palms, her legs were trembling, but they remained opened for him, inviting him closer as he finally teased her with the tip of his tongue, over and over, before finally pressing it flat against her.

Rumpelstiltskin could hear the creaking of the bed as she pulled at the rope. By now, her fingers would have been holding on to his hair, pulling him even closer, not that he'd ever dare pull away before she was satisfied. But as it was, she was truly helpless to hold him in place, or do anything other than writhe her hips against his mouth. He was free to pull back and just look at her, which was what he did. Her juices flowing out of her body as she contracted her muscles and tried with all her might to prolong the feeling of his tongue were quite a sight.

“I'm close,” she pleaded.

He answered, “I know,” as breathed in her scent. Part of him just wanted to lick and nibble her sex until she came, but there was a desperate note in her voice that was pleasing to hear. He wondered how long he could keep it there.

His nose tickled her most sensitive spot, making her tremble and gasp.

“I like it when you need me,” he said, giving it a kiss that felt almost chaste. “You're most beautiful like this.”

Belle panted as he licked at her again, tracing slow circles that took her breath away. She threw her head back and arched her body, pushing against his mouth. He pulled away.

“Rumple, please-”

“Look at me, my dear.”

She complied, meeting his eyes over the length of her body.

“That's right. Keep them on me. Don't look away.”

Without another word, he buried his mouth in her sex, eyes on hers, paying attention to her reaction. Belle turned red, as if being caught by his gaze enjoying his ministration was something close to indecent, but she didn't look away. Her lips were pressed together, trying to keep the most shameful sounds in, and her eyelids fluttered, but the moment his pace became slowed down, they shot opened and she pleaded for him to go on.

“You are so good, my dear,” he said, and Belle felt free to drop back on the pillow and pant at the ceiling. “In fact, I think you deserve to be rewarded.”

She pushed her hips up again, but he limited himself to kissing her thigh.

“No,” he cooed her. “Not that. I think it's time I have some fun as well.”

With a wave of his hand, her arms were freed from the bedposts, but the rope bracelets remained around her wrists. That seemed to amuse her, and Rumpelstiltskin found himself wondering if he might leave them on after they were done. The thought of his wife wearing them as she did something trivial, such as reading to him, or preparing tea, was as arousing as having her naked and offering all of her for him to take.

“How should I have you?” he asked, too overwhelmed to make that simple choice.

Belle seemed to think for a moment, then turned on her stomach and pushed herself to her hands and knees. One hand came to brush her hair over one shoulder, offering him a view of her profile and neck.

Rumpelstiltskin sighed and smoothed the line of her back, appreciating the curves of her body as he positioned himself behind her. For a moment, there was no sound other than the buckle of his belt coming undone. She glanced back, but he ordered her not to move. Belle seemed to struggle with that command, especially when the room went quiet, as he stroke his length, eyes devouring every inch of her. He needed her, but he still took his time to get himself ready, and even brushed his thumb softly against her sex, just for the pleasure of watching her squirm.

He aligned himself with her and Belle pushed against his body, but he grabbed her by the throat as roughly as his worries allowed him. It was enough to make her stop moving.

“Be still, now,” he rasped, pushing in. Lost in his own pleasure, he was vaguely aware of her throat expanding as Belle took in a deep breath, of her voice rising to a breathless falsetto, of one of her hands fumbling for his thigh and trying to bring him closer. She wasn't _perfectly_ still, but right now he didn't care. Her tightness was all that mattered. That, and the undeniable pleasure in her voice as she started moaning his name. Her hips moved with his, following his rhythm. Belle liked it. She liked _him_. It was enough to keep him going, fast and deep, until she collapsed on the bed with a final cry.

He soon followed, burying his teeth on her nape to muffle the sound of his own orgasm as it ripped threw his body, leaving him disoriented and satisfied on top of her.

Belle pried his fingers from around her throat and held on to his hand until Rumpelstiltskin was ready to move to his side of the bed, which was done in a lazy motion.

She propped herself on her elbow and smiled at him.

“Wasn't this a good idea?” she asked, not without some impertinence.

Rumpelstiltskin rolled his shoulders, feeling his entire body relaxing.

“If you still have the energy to be cheeky, maybe I'm not doing this right,” he said, trying to point a finger at her, but finding out she had his hand firmly trapped in hers.

“Don't worry, love,” she murmured, giving his index finger a kiss. “I think you're on the right track.”


End file.
